


Henbane

by jelazakazone



Series: Mordred fics [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humor, Jealous!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/jelazakazone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur needs healing.  <a href="http://jelazakazone.livejournal.com/630286.html">Find on LJ here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Henbane

**Author's Note:**

> I watched [ this interview with Alex Vlahos](http://youtu.be/39BJ6plmL8k) and wanted to give him a line about henbane. This seemed the obvious course of action. Then dialogue from 4.06 snuck in. Unbeta’d.

Merlin’s nervous breathing was seriously getting on Mordred’s nerves. His nervous voice was even worse.  
  
“Mordred, what’s wrong with Arthur? Why isn’t the wound healing? Can we brew a potion for him? You’re a druid. You must have learned all those healing arts.”  
  
Mordred set his jaw. He would do anything for Arthur; he was not so sure how far he’d go for Merlin.  
  
“Merlin, why don’t you go find some henbane and coltsfoot?” Mordred hoped he was keeping the annoyance out of his voice at this request. He needed some peace and quiet to think about what the best thing to do was and Merlin was like a buzzing gnat.  
  
Merlin stilled momentarily. “Hmm, yes. I think you’re right. Gaius often uses henbane for wounds and illness.” He scrutinized Mordred, pinning him with his eyes, as if he could pull truth out of him. “If you do anything to harm him, I will make sure you die slowly and painfully.”  
  
Mordred looked up at Merlin, eyes wide, hands still on Arthur’s body. “Merlin, please, hurry. We don’t have much time. If I wanted to kill him, don’t you think I’d have done so already?”  
  
He noticed Merlin’s clenched fists, the taut jaw and wondered if Merlin would insist that Mordred be the one to go off to collect the herbs, but Merlin turned and strode away from them.  
  
Mordred let out a breath, relaxing. Arthur was gravely wounded, there was no doubt of that. Mordred was not as practiced in the healing arts as some, but he thought he could handle this particular wound.  
  
He shifted from his squatting position to a sitting position, hardly aware of the moisture from the forest floor soaking his trousers. All his awareness was on the wound. Arthur’s wound. Mordred still couldn’t believe his luck, that he was so close to Arthur, after all these years. His heart sped up a little with the joy of being in his presence.  
  
He shook his head. He must heal the king. Gently he patted Arthur’s face. The skin was clammy and cool. He pulled back an eyelid. Pupil was not dilated. Ok, this was good. Mordred held his hands lightly over the wound and whispered, “Ic ðe ðurhhæle ðinu licsar mid ðam sundorcræft ðære ealdan æ. Drycræft ðurhhæle ðina wunda!”  
  
Arthur moaned. His eyelids fluttered open, piercing right through Mordred’s heart.  
  
“Where’s,” Arthur stopped and licked his lips, trying to get his mouth to work properly, “Where’s Merlin?” he croaked.  
  
Mordred let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Oh, he went off to find some herbs to try to heal you. I insisted I stay here, to guard you, as a proper knight of the Round Table would do.”  
  
Arthur closed his eyes and nodded. “All right. That’s ok.” He fell asleep, deeply in need of rest.  
  
When Merlin returned, Arthur was sitting up and Mordred was spooning some stew into his mouth.  
  
“Look, I know you like to take every opportunity to be by his side... But this is just getting ridiculous. You'll be pouring his bath water next.”  
  
“Merlin, is something wrong?”  
  
“This is what's wrong.” Merlin pointed to Mordred sitting by Arthur’s side.  
  
“I was just trying to help. I didn’t think we could wait until you got back. He started to get worse.”  
  
“I don’t need your help.” He eyed Mordred suspiciously. “I could have healed him just fine. I’ve done so on many occasions, haven’t I Arthur?”  
  
“I think we should be grateful that Mordred was here when you were gone. It sounds like I could have died otherwise.”  
  
“Ah, yes. Well, you would take his side, wouldn't you? But he must have used magic to heal you. How else do you explain your miraculous recovery from such a dire state?”  
  
“Excuse me? Merlin, I think you must be tired. Mordred was just doing what was needful.”  
  
“I just want to resume my normal duties.” Merlin muttered something under his breath that Mordred could have sworn was “saving you every time you need it,” but he couldn’t have heard that right.  
  
“Well, I'll be pleased to have your assistance preparing the horses. We are needed in Camelot.”  
  
“Thank you, sire.”  
  
“Oh, Merlin, did you get the henbane and coltsfoot? It probably wouldn’t hurt Arthur to take some now. Maybe I could prepare that while you get the horses ready?”  
  
Mordred didn’t understand the glaring daggers Merlin looked his way as he headed to the copse where the horses were tied up. Arthur laughed at Mordred’s confusion.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry about him. He just gets a little jealous when someone else takes care of me. No matter. You’ve done well today and we must be off now.”  
  



End file.
